Fire on the Ocean, Lines in the Sand
by Chichuri
Summary: AU Season 1: What if Duncan had died, not Lilly?
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Fire on the Ocean, Lines in the Sand (1/?)  
**Author:** chichuri  
**Pairing/Character:** Veronica, ensemble

**Word Count:** 4026  
**Rating:** R for mild language  
**Summary:** AU Season 1: What if Duncan had died, not Lilly?

**Spoilers:** Season 1, although all aired episodes to be safe.

**Disclaimer: **Characters not mine, of course.

**Author's note:** Flashbacks are in bold; thoughts in italics. Much thanks to for canon versions of dialogue. Inspiration and some dialogue also taken from the original pilot script, original project notes, and pilot commentary, all available at Rob Thomas's website.

**Author's note 2: ** This project is almost certainly proof of my growing insanity. I've been amusing myself at odd moments by plotting this monstrosity out since July. Thanks as always to my significant other/beta, vagajammer, for allowing me to bounce ideas off of him and for putting up with it all. And no, love, I still will not name this thing "Donut Dies".

**Fire on the Ocean, Lines in the Sand**

Behind you, hands are tied  
Your being, ostracized  
Your hell is multiplied  
Upending  
The fallout has begun  
Oppressive damage done  
Your many turned to none  
To nothing

**Metallica-- "The Shortest Straw"**

_Neptune High School. Two more years and I can graduate and put this lovely little circle of Hell behind me._

_But that's two more years of torture I have to endure._

It was with no little reluctance that Veronica pulled into a parking spot and turned the key to shut off her LeBaron. Two joyous months of no contact with her fellow students deeper than the investigation of their parents' infidelities and sordid secrets had spoiled her. She had been able to push the past school year away and remember how to breathe without steeling herself for the next blow.

She remembered she had once had a life in which every day wasn't a constant battle. Once upon a time she had lived in the blissful ignorance of the innocent. She had had a boyfriend, friends, a mother who loved her. Only one of the people she had counted on had not been swept away by the deluge of betrayal and blood that had redefined her life. Now her eyes had been ripped open and innocence was a word that had ceased to have meaning. Now, as she grabbed her messenger bag and opened her car door, she girded herself for war.

The usual streams of vapid teenagers flowed towards the school, blathering on about their summer, their boyfriends, their oh-so-terrible/wonderful/carefree lives. Rich or poor, it didn't matter; the mindless babble was the same. All that differed was the sticker price of the cars in which they drove to school, the labels on the clothes they wore on their backs, and the places where they had spent their endlessly fascinating summers.

_My three months in the Mars Investigations office by day and in my car on stakeouts by night were lovely, thank you very much. And no, you probably don't **want**_ _to know what your father/mother/brother/sister/friends have **really** been up to, but if you piss me off, I'll gladly enlighten you. _

The crowds slowed and knotted around the flagpole. Mutters shifted from the delights of vacation to the latest victim of the PCH bike club. The bikers had mastered the art of securely duct taping their victim to preserve modesty and not much else, but the misspelling of 'snitch' on their victim's chest suggested they had not moved beyond remedial English. The crowd had mastered the finer points of the gapers block, but she knew that no one had considered putting himself in harms way to cut the kid down. Joining in the public shaming, though, that was something they could all get behind. The young black man held up under the jeers and stares with remarkable dignity.

Veronica pushed her way to the front of the crowd and stared up at the boy. For moment she considered walking by and letting the scavengers feast. Help drive in the object lesson that in Neptune, you fought or you fell, and that those people that you could trust at your back were few and far between. The rest would dine on the carnage left behind.

She was acting before she realized she had made a decision. "Move," she growled at some idiot who thought a picture with the victim was the highlight of back to school memories. His posturing ended when her knife came out.

"You're new here, huh?" She sawed through the duct tape with grim determination. "Welcome to Neptune High."

Veronica heard the murmurs spread through the crowd. She caught words like "freak", "bitch", and "crazy" as they continued to watch the show. _Well, I'm delighted to know that my reputation has remained intact through the summer. One can only hope that the object lesson of leaving me the fuck alone has also ingrained itself into their psyches._

The bell rang, and the vultures scattered. "Go Pirates," she called after them with a hollow mockery of school spirit. Without another word she finished cutting the boy down and stalked off to her first class. She had done her good deed for the day. Now it was up to him to sink or swim.

I sit alone contemplating  
What is missing inside me  
I desperately try to remember  
A life that's not meant to be  
I meditate  
And try to recapture  
Some sense of reality  
In my life  
When I look around  
I see numb empty faces  
The world is waiting to die  
**Stabbing Westward--"Television"**

The main course at lunch was some sort of mystery meat the school was trying to pass off as edible. The neon peas and corn weren't much better, but as limp as they were, they looked less liable to try to scurry off her tray. Veronica stabbed idly at the lump of meat as she stared at the tables commandeered by the scions of the Neptune wealthy and elite.

Contrary to popular speculation, she wasn't stalking them and didn't hope they would accept her back into their ranks. She stared because she didn't trust any of them at her back. That, and they made an intriguing study in group psychology. To the outside world--anyone who wasn't rich, pretty, or useful--the 09ers presented a united front. To anyone in the know the polarization of the elite had not eased over the summer, and the endlessly shifting dynamics made for great drama.

On one side were Logan Echolls and his lieutenant in mayhem, Dick Casablancas. One a psychotic jackass, the other a misogynist asshole, they led the brigade of the obnoxious and elitist with a gleeful disdain towards any rules or regulations that were not to their liking. On the outside they were the typical high school upper crust jacked up to the extreme, harrying anyone who didn't match their standards. Rumors of vandalism, pool burnings, and violence suggested that typical high school antics were just the tip of the iceberg.

On the other side were Lilly Kane and her handmaiden, Madison Sinclair. They were the royalty of those 09ers who took subtle cruelty to an art form. On the surface, they were the leaders of the school, loved by teachers for their roles in activities such as student council, sports, and cheerleading. Within the group snide backbiting and quietly vicious reorganizations of the pecking order were a daily occurrence. These students trained daily for a future in the world of petty and not so petty corruption and periodically used their skills on the school at large.

Most of the 09ers existed in a dynamic equilibrium between the two poles. They fell in and out of favor with the ruling bodies, they fell in and out of lust with members of the opposite sex, they fell in and out of tolerance with the antics of one group or the other. On one issue most of them agreed--the alienation of one Veronica Mars.

On the whole, Veronica preferred the outward antagonism to the snide whisper campaigns. Direct attacks could be countered. Guerrilla warfare was harder to track back to the source.

It was almost unfathomable that these people had once been her friends. She glanced from Lilly to Logan. They had been the people who made high school fun. Of course, that was before everything, when Lilly and Logan were **the** couple.

**"Eew. Please, the whole table does _not_ need to see your tongue down his throat."**

**Lilly turned to grin at Veronica without moving from Logan's lap. "Hey, I'm, like, teaching all of you how to kiss _properly_. Educational purposes only. The fact that some perverts are getting off on it," her grin turned wicked as she looked at Dick, "is _totally_ not my fault."**

**"And I'm sure that Vice Principal Clemmons shares your philosophy of sex education," Veronica said dryly. "No, wait, how many times have the two of you been dragged into his office for inappropriate conduct since the school year began? Six?"**

**"Hey, its not _my_ fault that he has, like, _issues_ with public displays of affection." Lilly wrapped herself around Logan and nibbled on his neck. Logan bit back a groan. Dick cheered. Veronica dropped her head to the table, her face growing warm. "And I'm _very_ affectionate, now that my younger man has finally made it to high school."**

**As much as Veronica loved being able hang out with her best friend at school, she was going to miss _not_ being constantly caught up in the tempest that was Lilly and Logan's relationship.**

Veronica still didn't know what had driven the final wedge between them.

Logan caught her stare and smirked. He leaned towards Dick and whispered something to him, never breaking her gaze. The comment was evidently hysterical, if the blonde's laughter was any indication, and probably at her expense. Veronica refused to look away even as the pair made gestures that looked vaguely obscene.

"You okay?"

"What?" Veronica wrenched her eyes away and glared. Her charity case from the morning had materialized at her table.

"You look, I don't know, hypnotized."

"Did I say you could sit here?" The verbal swat was reflexive. She wasn't prepared for the mix of irritation, disappointment, and resignation on the boy's face as he started to pack his lunch away and leave.

It wasn't his fault he hadn't yet learned to stay as far from her as possible. "Wait a minute." The boy looked up. He had kind eyes, a kindness she hadn't seen directed towards her by anyone her own age in nearly a year. "Of course you can sit here. Sit wherever you want." He would learn soon enough.

"That- that was cool, what you did, cutting me off of that pole."

"Yeah, well . . ."

"My bitch," a voice came from behind. Veronica braced for the expected attack. "Weren't you supposed to wait for me at the flagpole?" Eli 'Weevil' Navarro sauntered towards the black boy then straddled the bench next to him, deliberately crowding his personal space. "I'm not sure I could have made that any clearer." A half dozen of his thugs surrounded the table to drive the threat home.

"Okay, I get it, a'right. Very funny." It looked like the kid was trying to play peacemaker, to turn his victimization into a harmless prank. "I guess . . . we're even now. Right?"

"You get what boy?" Weevil was not soothed. He was making a point, and the stammering of his victim was not going to deflect it. "You get that you're a dead man walking, is that what you get?"

It felt odd being the one watching rather than experiencing a confrontation, Veronica decided. The new boy dealt with it as well as he could, but was clearly outmatched by the famed leader of the PCH Bike Club. Taking on Weevil would require an expert who was not impressed with the posturing of teenaged boys, no matter how badass they might act or how many of their buddies they brought with them. "Leave him alone."

Weevil glanced over, clearly not amused by either her words or her flat tone. "Sister," he said as he rose and swaggered back towards her, "the only time I care what a woman has to say is when she's riding my big old hog." Weevil seemed to think that looming over her with a leer and spouting off sexual innuendo was intimidating. "But even then it's not so much words as just a bunch of 'oohs' and 'aahs', you know?"

"So it's big, huh?" Veronica asked in mock interest

"Legendary," Weevil replied with a self-satisfied smirk.

"Well let's see it. I mean if it's as big as you say, I'll be your . . . no, wait." Veronica paused and put a finger to her chin, pretending to be thoughtful. "Nevermind." She shook her head. "I'm not particularly interested in Lilly Kane's sloppy seconds."

Weevil's eyes darkened and he took a step forward, hands curling into fists. "What the fuck does that matter to you, girl? I mean, from what I've heard, you've done the entire football team."

"Huh. I've heard the same thing about Lilly. Tell me, after all that experience, is she **that** good?" Veronica watched as the Hispanic boy become even angrier. There was something more than injured pride in his expression. She wondered if he had fallen under Lilly's spell. Time to probe and find out. "What, you didn't think she cared about you as anything more than her personal sex toy?"

The pain that flashed through Weevil's eyes quickly became anger, and he looked like he wanted to do damage. _Huh. The big, bad biker boy really did like Lilly Kane,_ Veronica thought, not breaking eye contact as she reached for her messenger bag. Just in case she had pushed the biker too far, she wanted her taser at hand.

"Mr. Navarro. What on God's green earth is going on here?" Vice Principal Clemmons, noticing the escalating confrontation, hurried over and grabbed Weevil by the back of his collar. The biker started to resist, then allowed himself to be pulled backwards. "All right gentlemen, move it along." The bikers moved as directed, shooting dirty looks back at Veronica as they left. They looked like they weren't sure who had won the confrontation and weren't happy about it.

_Well, it wasn't as though they liked me anyway._

Clemmons stayed long enough to give her a disapproving shake of the head. "Veronica, why does trouble follow you around?"

_Because it hasn't yet figured out that pissing me off is a bad idea?_ Veronica chose not to verbalize the thought. Starting the year with detention seemed a touch inauspicious. She gave an insincere smile as the Vice Principal walked away.

Rescued for the second time that day, the new boy gave her a grin that bordered on hero worship. She looked past him to the 09ers. Lilly Kane was studiously ignoring the scene, although the girls at her table kept glancing at Veronica and whispering. Logan stared in her direction with unnerving intensity; she couldn't tell if he was watching her or the departing bikers. Several of his cronies tried to get his attention, but he ignored them.

By the end of the day, the rumor mill would have her servicing the bikers in full view of the entire lunch crowd. _What a lovely start to the new school year. And an interesting new addition to my already stellar reputation._

With a shake of her head, she refocused her attention back to her lunch companion. "So what did you do?" she asked a touch more sharply than she intended. She was involved now, for better or worse. Best to figure out what was really going on.

"What?"

"Why are you a dead man walking?" she clarified. _Although if you have any deep dark secrets that I can later use against you, please share . . . _she stopped that train of thought. He probably didn't deserve her bitchiness.

"Oh yeah. I work at Sac-n-Pac. Last night I was working by myself," he started, and then paused. "I'm Wallace, by the way, and thanks again."

"Whatever. You're welcome. And you were saying . . .?"

Wallace grinned and shook his head. He became more serious as he continued with his story. "Couple of those guys came in. They just walked right to the back of the store and started stuffing all these forties into their pockets. So," Wallace shrugged, "I hit the silent alarm."

Veronica nodded. The response of the properly trained store clerk--don't confront the problem yourself, but notify the authorities and let them deal with it. _Works if you have authorities worth a damn. Not so much when you don't. And since I know we don't . . ._

"When they were finished," Wallace continued, "they came to the front, and one of them grabbed a pack of gum like I hadn't been watching them the entire time. I guess the dude thought a one-dollar bill would cover it. That's when the police came."

"We don't have police here," Veronica interrupted. "We have a Sheriff's Department."

"Um . . . yeah. Okay, so they show up . . ."

"Which ones?"

"Huh?"

"Which deputies were at the scene?"

"Uh . . . I think the guy that came into the store was . . . Lamb, maybe? The other one had dark hair, and this mustache, but I didn't catch his name."

"Sacks. The guy with the mustache is Deputy Sacks. And Lamb is Sheriff." Wallace blinked. She guessed he was surprised by her easy identification of the men, although he could simply have been bemused by her repeated interruptions. "Go on."

"So Sheriff Lamb brings me outside, says the bikers told him they paid. The two who came into the store were there, handcuffed, with about fifteen of their closest buddies looking on. I think that all of 'em who were here today were there . . . I know that that bald guy was. I didn't catch his name." Wallace looked to Veronica expectantly.

"Eli Navarro, nickname Weevil. He's leader of the bikers."

"Thanks. So, anyway, in front of all of them . . . I caved. I was afraid of what they'd do to me. Told the cop . . . sheriff that I'd accidentally hit the alarm. But he, uh, went in, grabbed the surveillance video, and dragged the guys off anyway. Told me to grow up and get some balls." Wallace shook his head and sighed.

Veronica gave him a toothy grin. "Congratulations, sport. In your short time here, you've already managed to piss off the motorcycle gang and the local sheriff. Good luck."

The bell rang, ending lunch and saving her from attempting any more small talk. She gave a brief nod and escaped to her next class.

Veronica almost made it through her first day without another incident. She had hoped . . . but no. She knew it was wishful thinking. She was just surprised it had taken this long.

The halls cleared quickly as everyone fled the school. Her own thoughts were focused on going home and taking Backup out for a run as she grabbed the books she needed from her locker. She was distracted enough that she almost missed the significance of the tall, lean body moving into the left edge of her field of vision. Her brain reengaged as soon as her unconscious recognized the silhouette.

Even a summer away couldn't overcome eight months of conditioning.

Six feet away, casually leaning against the lockers at his back, sun-streaked brunette head tilted slightly towards her, was Logan Echolls.

"So, Ronnie, how was your summer?"

Veronica considered the words. They sounded so innocuous, a friendly greeting she had overheard many times today. The meaning was in the layers underneath: a nickname she loathed, a tone of voice that was a touch mean, a mouth twisted into a smirk that showed a few too many teeth, eyes that burned with an intensity that bore no resemblance to friendly. _Nope, Logan still hates me. Shocker._

Veronica finished putting the books she needed in her bag, and made sure she had easy access to the front pockets.

"Do anyone interesting?"

Veronica glanced at him, raised an eyebrow, and turned to leave. To be blocked by six feet of blond surfer bimbo. Wow, he'd snuck up on her. She had thought the only way Dick Casablancas could stay silent that long was by gagging him.

"Ronnie, where ya going? We just wanted to be friendly." So, no gag. But a leer that made her stomach turn. Veronica tried to sidestep him, but he moved to block her.

"Move, Dick," Veronica snapped.

Dick pressed closer, well into her personal space. "But Ronnie, it's been two whole months. We just want to, y'know, catch up. Have some . . . fun."

"Catch up. Hmm. Okay, you drank yourself stupid, smoked some pot, played some video games, and pretended you could surf. I did something more interesting and intellectually challenging with my time. All caught up. Wow, that was fun. Now get. Out. Of. My. Way."

Dick edged forward and licked his lips. "Maybe we should catch up more intimate-like. You know you want to."

**"Hey Ronnie," Dick slurred, pressing into her, his lips on hers. "You know you wanna . . ."**

_Oh, God._ Veronica fought to suppress the shudders that the hazy memory evoked. She turned towards Logan, who had been uncharacteristically quiet. "Logan, tell your monkey to back off before he gets himself hurt." She forced the sugary sweet tone between gritted teeth and reached into the front pocket of her messenger bag.

Logan still leaned against the lockers with boneless grace, but his jaw was tight and his fingers tapped restlessly against his thigh. He glanced at Dick before turning his attention back to Veronica. "Now, Ronnie, wouldn't want to ruin your fun," he said with a careless drawl.

"Dick," she started to warn as she turned back. The blonde boy leaned forward and grabbed her arm.

He went down as soon as the taser touched his stomach.

"Technically, that could be considered assault," Logan commented idly. "Which would, as I well know, warrant suspension."

Veronica turned to Logan as she put the taser back in her bag. "Extenuating circumstances. I felt threatened. I thought he was attacking me."

"Huh. Wasn't that your excuse last year?" He tilted his head as though deep in thought, then nodded decisively. "Someone could still try to argue the case. Y'know, past behaviors, character witnesses on both sides and everything." Now Logan was just baiting her.

"First little Dicky there," she gestured to the boy sprawled on the floor, "would have to admit that someone ten inches shorter and eighty pounds lighter got the drop on him. And second, he would have to have character for someone to witness."

"Well he is one." Logan stopped and considered. "Nope, that wouldn't help his case much." Veronica was surprised to see something akin to a grin stretch Logan's lips.

"Well, as fun as it hasn't been . . ." Veronica carefully stepped around Dick and started down the hall.

"What, you're just going to shock and run? I thought that was more your mother's shtick." Logan's voice, which had almost been friendly, shifted to cold and biting. Veronica's shoulders stiffened, but she refused to be goaded even as he continued. "Not that, y'know, trailer trash drinking themselves into a public spectacle was really **that** shocking, but still." A long dramatic pause, as Logan waited for a comment that didn't come. Finally he added slyly, "Could be worse, I suppose. You could be off tormenting the innocent for crimes they didn't commit, like your daddy did."

Veronica stopped, but didn't turn around. "At least he tried to uphold justice. Unlike you, who just gets off on both tormenting the innocent **and** committing crimes against them. Bet your daddy's proud of that. Although y'think maybe instead of acting the spoiled brat rich kid he'd be happier if you ditched the publicity nightmare?"

She forced herself not to flinch when Logan slapped his hands against the lockers as he pushed off them. Several long, angry strides and he put himself in front of her.

"And your father's doing what now for his sins?" Logan swept his hands wide in a dramatic gesture, his voice growing louder as he continued. "From sheriff to bottom-feeding spy for hire? Looks to me like he just settled down into his natural place in the food chain. Like father, like daughter." His eyes burned into hers. "You both deserve every **fucking** bit of the crap that you brought down on yourselves."

Veronica's fingernails bit into the palms of her hands as she glared up at Logan. It took all of the self-control she had developed in the last eleven months to keep her fists at her side instead of lashing out at him with all the strength she had. She wanted to tell him to shut the fuck up and that he didn't have a fucking **clue** what he was talking about, but she knew that if she opened her mouth she would lose her tenuous hold on her temper.

Logan didn't try to stop her when she stalked around him and down the hallway. He didn't say another word, but she could feel the pressure of his fury until she left the building.

_Two more years and I graduate. Two more years until this hell and everyone who inhabit it are a distant memory._


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Fire on the Ocean, Lines in the Sand (2/?)  
**Author:** chichuri  
**Pairing/Character:** Veronica, ensemble

**Word Count:** 4558  
**Rating:** R for mild language  
**Summary:** AU Season 1: What if Duncan had died, not Lilly?

**Spoilers:** Season 1, although all aired episodes to be safe.

**Disclaimer: **Characters not mine, of course.

**Author's note:** Flashbacks are in bold; thoughts in italics. Much thanks to vmtranscripts for cannon versions of dialogue. Inspiration and some dialogue also taken from the original pilot script, original project notes, and pilot commentary, all available at Rob Thomas's website.

**Author's note 2:** Much thanks to vagajammer for reading over each chapter, bouncing ideas back to me, and continually asking "where's the next chapter in your AU project?" when my muse hijacks me to write something else. Next chapter as soon as I finish writing it, but the aforementioned fickle muse may (okay, probably will) interrupt me with something else first.

**Author's note 3:** I promise you, this is slowly splitting off into more AU territory; it's just taking a little while to get there.

**Chapter 2**

Good morning day  
Sorry I'm not there  
But all my favorite friends  
Vanished in the air  
It's hard to fly when you can't even run  
Once I had the world, but now I've got no one  
**Three Days Grace--"Drown"**

_An enthusiastic pit bull waiting at the door is an antidote to a nearly unlimited number of poisons. _The first honest smile of the day stretched Veronica's face. She scratched Backup's head and then knelt to envelop the dog in a hug, burying her face in the fur of his neck. The dog's tail wagged hard enough to shake his entire body as he expressed his delight at his mistress returning home. Muscles she hadn't even known were tense relaxed and she murmured happily to her eager audience.

When Veronica could deal with the world again, she stood. "Want to go for a run on Dog Beach?" she asked Backup, grabbing his leash and favorite ball. "You can chase the waves and any 09ers you find, I promise." She laughed at the delightful image as she clipped the leash to his collar. "And you know how you love the wind in your fur." The dog eagerly dragged her out the door, and once at the car jumped into his accustomed spot on the backseat. Veronica couldn't help but grin affectionately. The love and adoration of her dog was one of the only constants left in her world.

Few people were at the beach when she arrived, which suited her just fine. As she unleashed Backup and tossed the ball, she realized she recognized one of them.

_Huh. Hope the PCHers don't spot him._

Veronica watched the boy skillfully maneuver a radio-controlled airplane through an acrobatic display. She couldn't make up her mind if he was brave or stupid, out here alone and unprotected.

A warm body leaning against her legs recalled her to the reason she'd ventured out. She grabbed the slimy ball from Backup's jaws and tossed it in the direction of the waves. The dog danced forward to grab the ball, then back as the waves rolled in. She caught herself smiling again.

A glance up, and she saw that Wallace was now watching her. He waved when he realized she had seen him, a small smile on his face. Waving back, once an automatic gesture, had become a conscious decision. One that she realized she had made only when she lifted her hand.

_Is it weird that I keep doing stuff without thinking it through today? And that every time I do, he's involved?_

Wallace's smile became larger and he nodded in acknowledgment, then turned his attention back to the whirring airplane.

_Brave_, she finally decided, pushing her choppy hair out of her eyes. _Brave and terribly naive_.

Eventually Veronica led the pit bull from the beach. All members of the Mars family needed to be fed, and the Mars Investigations paperwork wouldn't file itself. A quick trip home and she fed the four-legged Mars while preparing dinner for the two-legged ones.

"Backup, guard the apartment," she called as she left with dinner in hand. The dog lazily wagged his tail and settled on the couch.

The only good thing to come out of the hell that had been the last year, she decided, starting her car and pulling into the sparse traffic flow, had to be the increased rapport between father and daughter. She and her father had always been close, but his long hours at the sheriff's department had limited the amount of time they could spend together.

If she was going to honest with herself, back then she had been her mother's daughter. She had loved her father, had enjoyed being spoiled by the deputies at the department, and had found the bits and pieces of crime trivia that they all dropped fascinating. But she had enjoyed playing the pampered princess for her mother even more. Lianne had delighted in her girly daughter and Veronica had been desperate to please her even while it seemed her mother was slowly slipping away.

A flash of red worth more than the contents of her entire apartment caught her eye as she pulled onto the downtown street where Mars Investigations had their offices. _One of these things is so **very** not like the others_, Veronica mused, maneuvering the decidedly less glamorous LeBaron into a parking spot. The only thing more surprising than the sight of the red Jaguar convertible was the license plate on the car. _KANE 2, Celeste Kane's car._

**"Lilly . . ."**

**"Veronica, if you say we shouldn't be doing this one more time, I'm gonna leave you at home. And then it will be poor little me, all alone and vulnerable at a club in LA with no one to defend me." Lilly fluttered her eyelashes at Veronica before returning her attention to the highway, her blonde hair whipping back in the wind.**

**"Vulnerable, my ass," Veronica muttered, fidgeting as she adjusted the skimpy blue top Lilly had insisted she wear. She knew she sounded more than a bit sullen, but she was still annoyed that Lilly had steamrolled over objections to any and every flaw in her plan. **

**"Chill, Veronica. Dad and Celeste won't be back until tomorrow, so there's no way the Ice Bitch will notice her precious car is gone. Your dad thinks you're at my place, and no one will notice if I don't come home." Lilly tapped her scarlet tipped fingers against the steering wheel in time to the heavy beat from the radio.**

**"And sneaking into the club?"**

**Lilly waved one hand in dismissal. "As fabulous as we are? The bouncer will, like, bow down to our hotness and let us in without a blink."**

**Veronica glanced over at Lilly's barely-there outfit, then pulled down the visor and angled it so she could see her own clothes in the mirror. She evaluated the ensemble critically. "I think you overshot hot and descended into slutty on this one."**

**"And trust me, oh conservative one, in these getups we both look totally hot."**

**Veronica shook her head. "Next time, we take seducing our way into the club out of the equation. I'm sneaking us into the back room at the sheriff's department and making us fake IDs."**

**"Why Veronica Mars! How very criminal of you!"**

**"Not criminal, Lilly," Veronica grinned. "Just . . . enterprising."**

The Jaguar had handled like a dream, the club had been a blast, and Celeste had never been the wiser. Veronica had smiled and kept her silence when, later in the summer, Duncan had borrowed the car to take her to dinner on her sixteenth birthday.

The familiar pain tightened around her heart and she gasped for air. Three heartbeats, and she fought back control. Just as quickly as the memories overwhelmed her, she choked them back.

Veronica stared at the car and wondered what had brought Celeste slumming. She couldn't imagine anything that would bring the illustrious Mrs. Kane voluntarily back into the orbit of the Mars family. _And sitting out here examining her car won't help you figure out what she's up to, Veronica. Although I can now say with conviction that the body shop commissioned to put the car back together after Lilly wrapped it around that tree last spring does excellent work._ After a final moment of hesitation she opened the LeBaron's door, grabbing up her messenger bag and dinner as she exited.

There was no sign of Celeste in the outer room of Mars Investigations, but the closed door and muffled voices indicated the inner office was occupied. Veronica put dinner in the kitchenette's refrigerator, her bag on her desk, and her ear to her father's door.

_Damn these suspiciously soundproof doors._ She couldn't quite make out sentences, just maddeningly incoherent snatches of words and phrases. For the hundredth time she contemplated the wisdom of bugging her father's office. On the one hand, she would be able to figure out what was going on in these 'confidential' meetings. On the other hand, if her father ever found out he'd be less than pleased with his daughter's ingenuity.

"Veronica Mars!"

_Crap._ Veronica abandoned the door and returned to her desk. Well, at least it was Cliff McCormack and not someone looking for a private investigator. Finding someone spying on confidential meetings was not likely to impress potential clients as to the discretion of Mars Investigations. At least Cliff probably wouldn't tell Mars Senior that Mars Junior had been caught snooping.

"My dad's with a client," she said with a trifle more force than necessary.

"Apparently. That's okay, I'm happy out here chatting with you."

_Damn._ Under normal circumstances, Veronica liked Cliff. The lawyer was one of few people in Neptune who had publicly stood by her father when he was unceremoniously booted out of office. Given the seedy nature of the Public Defender's clients, he knew well how the corruption of the current sheriff's regime had screwed anyone who wasn't rich or powerful. His timing, however, was terrible. She knew by the way he had planted himself in the chair across from her that he wouldn't leave until he got what he wanted.

She sighed and resigned herself to dragging answers from her father later.

Veronica and Cliff opened the conversation with the usual fencing match. He only gave amused lip service to the illusion that her duties were limited to filing and the occasional online searches. She refused to tell him any different, offering up plausible deniability if anyone in court challenged that evidence was obtained by an unlicensed, underage, junior PI. After a few minutes of familiar bickering he dropped a file folder on her desk. The case he presented balanced the tawdriness Cliff so admired with the sheriff's department corruption she so delighted in exposing. She made no promises, but Cliff knew her. She would take the case just for the chance to thumb her nose at Lamb.

Cliff had left and Veronica had just started flipping through the file when the door to the inner office opened and out walked Celeste Kane. The impeccably dressed woman stopped mid-sentence and mid-stride to glare at Veronica.

_Ooh. And hatred wafts towards me on a cloud of expensive perfume._

"I didn't realize your . . . daughter worked here," Celeste said acidly.

"She helps in the office," her father returned flatly. "If that's a problem, I'm sure that there are other private investigators who'd be glad to have your business."

Celeste returned her attention to Keith, but didn't look any happier. "I hate the fact that I'm here but I do know if anyone would be dogged and resourceful in this matter, it'll be you." She swept to the door then turned. "Don't call me at home, I'll call you. And I'll need it right away." The parting shot was punctuated by the bang of the closing door.

Some days Veronica had no question where Lilly had gotten her sense of drama, although the restraint had passed her by. Duncan had been at the other end of the spectrum, with all of his mother's emotional reserve without the understated theatrics.

Veronica shot a curious look at her father, but he shook his head and retreated into the inner office. Explanations would have to wait until later and she hoped they would be damned good ones. Why Celeste would allow any Mars the opportunity to explore the dirty laundry of the Kane dynasty was a mystery. The woman hated the remnants of the Mars family: Keith for attempting to put her husband in jail and Veronica for coveting a place in her son's affections. Hell, the woman probably hated Backup for not conforming perfectly to breed standards. Veronica also suspected that Celeste held her at least partially responsible for her son's death. She couldn't blame Duncan's mother for that when it was probably true.

After all, if Veronica had answered his calls, gone to talk with him as he'd asked, maybe he wouldn't be dead.

**Veronica huddled on the plush grey carpet, phone held loosely in one hand. It shuddered and indicated that Duncan was trying to reach her again. She didn't check this message either. She couldn't talk to him. Not now. Not after . . . she shied away from the thought. He broke up with her. He didn't want her anymore. She wondered what Duncan had heard, to be this desperate to get in touch.**

**She wanted to call Lilly, to cry on her shoulder and figure out what to do, but she couldn't. The betrayal cut too deep. It was possible her volatile friend may not have intended to break her promises, but experience should have shown that nothing came between Lilly and her hedonism. Not even friendship. Veronica wasn't sure if she could ever trust Lilly again. But whom else could she talk to? Logan? Even if she hadn't made his 'people I'm ignoring calls from because they're connected to that bitch Lilly Kane' list last week by reporting the kiss, anything he was liable to do would only make things worse. Meg would be sympathetic, but would never understand. Madison was an untrustworthy elitist bitch, as were the rest her 09er kin. Veronica wouldn't tell any of the 09ers anything beyond the superficial, and she had no friends beyond that exclusive circle.**

**She certainly couldn't talk to her parents.**

**She curled into the corner until after dark, trying to organize her thoughts and bouncing wildly between possible courses of action. She had just about convinced herself that despite everything the only person in whom she could confide was Lilly when she heard light footsteps on the stairs. The steps paused outside her room and were followed by a soft knock.**

**"Veronica? I need to talk to you." Her mother's voice was hesitant. Something in the tone made Veronica's stomach clench. She stood, closing her phone and tucking it into a pocket, as her mother opened the door and flipped the light switch, banishing the shadows from all but the darkest corners. Veronica's sense of dread increased at her mother's serious expression. She rubbed suddenly sweaty palms against her arms then crossed them defensively.**

**"Mom?" Did she . . .?**

**"It's Duncan."**

**Veronica froze.**

**"They think he's been . . . taken. Kidnapped, probably. At least they hope." Her mother's voice caught and she twisted her hands together. "They found a lot of blood out by the pool, and think that maybe . . . well, head wounds bleed a lot, and they have to do tests to determine . . . things."**

**In her worst nightmares Veronica hadn't expected anything like this. Her head filled with static and the roaring in her ears overwhelmed all but a few scattered words from her mother.**

Veronica pulled herself together when her father emerged. Given her distinct lack of planted listening devices she would have to resort to interrogating her father and hope he wasn't in one of those 'protect the virgin ears of my poor innocent daughter' moods. After all, no matter how gruffly paternal her father insisted on being she was no longer virgin or innocent. Besides, he should know by now that she would just find his case files and read them if he was stubbornly uncommunicative.

Dinner and small talk softened up her father, but the case was disappointingly plebeian. Not that Veronica wouldn't be happy to prove Jake Kane was cheating on his wife, but it wasn't a particularly **interesting** story. And prove it she would; with her father going out of town to chase a bail jumper who chose a surprisingly convenient time to consider sampling Mexican hospitality, she was clear to take point on the case. Celeste wanted the information quickly, and Veronica was happy to demonstrate that Mars Investigations catered to their client's needs.

_If I get bitter satisfaction from the thought of bringing pain into the Kane family, well, that's just one of the perks of the job, right?_

Veronica had picked up Jake Kane at home, tailed him to Kane software, then followed him to his newest stop. _Late hours at the office could simply be the sign of a workaholic. Late hours at the Camelot hotel? Sign of a marriage in trouble and money in the bank. _The seedy motel always seemed to be the favored location of Neptune's philandering spouses for tawdry affairs, no matter what their tax bracket. Now she waited, hoping for the incriminating picture that had eluded her when he entered Room 6.

_Ok, first, cheating spouses need to get some originality . . . and some class. I mean, easier for me to get the money shot here than at the Neptune Grand, but you would think more of them would learn . . . and that by now the desk clerk would have pictures of my car posted in the lobby. And second? Tawdry? I have **got** to stop talking to Cliff so much._

She sipped coffee and watched the motel, glad she had remembered the thermos. The caffeine and bitter taste prodded her mind into alertness while the heat warmed her fingers. She put the container back in the cup holder and lifted her camera, snapping a few shots of license plates of the cars in the parking lot. When she returned her camera to her lap, she glanced at her watch. Ten minutes and nothing; she probably had at least another twenty before anything interesting happened. If she was particularly unlucky and had a spouse who thought he was in love with the object of his lust, she could be here all night.

_Time to make constructive use of my time. Studying it is. _She balanced her calculus book on top of the camera, trying to keep Room 6 in her peripheral vision while she reviewed the chapter. Granted, the second day of school was unlikely to merit a pop quiz, even from the most sadistic of math teachers, but full scholarships to the school of her choice were elusive. And as a bonus, she could play another semester of 'confound the teacher', wherein she demonstrated her ability to wake from a doze to recite the day's lesson despite the fact no one thought she was paying attention.

Besides, long stakeouts were boring, and calculus slightly less so.

At the grumbling roar of motorcycles and blinding headlights in the rear view mirror, the night abruptly became less boring.

_Well, this can't be good._

Veronica debated leaving before the bikers surrounded her, but that would be running. Running invited an enemy to chase and these were certainly not friends she wanted to lead home. A display of strength, and they might back down. Or, she reevaluated as she watched boys rendered faceless by motorcycle helmets position their bikes to surround her, they might try to chew her up into little, biker-sized pieces. She needed to have weapons at hand and be ready to bolt if the tide turned against her. Fortunately, as on all stakeouts, her arsenal lay within easy reach.

She identified Weevil by the gold cross around his neck even before he removed his helmet and motioned for her to roll down the window. She hesitated, complying only when she saw the other bikers were also unmasking. If they meant harm certainly they wouldn't be so stupid as to give her a chance to identify them.

"Car trouble, miss?" Weevil asked aggressively.

She breathed in and prepared herself. _Never look scared in front of the enemy, no matter what. Look scared and you give them an opening. Besides, they're smart enough to know not to fuck with you._ "Yeah, as a matter of fact. I think it might be a loose belt but if you wouldn't mind checking under the hood?"

She didn't recognize the biker that approached her car. He reached towards her, looking back at Weevil. "Hey Weevil, who gets the first danc-"

Backup, alert from the moment he had heard the rumbling of the motorcycles, was a tan blur as he jumped out of the back seat and fastened his jaws on the guy's wrist. The biker's cocky arrogance abruptly shifted to pants-soiling terror. "Get him off me! Get him off me, get him off me!"

_Okay, my mistake. They're not so smart.  
_

Felix she did recognize, and she thought at least Weevil's second would have known better. However, putting that knowledge into action appeared to be beyond the impulsive biker's repertoire for the evening. He loomed over her threateningly and waved a fist in her face, growling, "Girl, you best call off your dog."

A taser to the chest, and Felix dropped with a comical expression of shock.

Veronica raised an eyebrow at Weevil, who looked embarrassed. "Y'know, both you and Logan should really look into getting more intelligent lieutenants," she commented dryly. "Your current models have demonstrated a shocking lack of self-preservation." Almost feeling sorry for Weevil over the state of his troops, she called off Backup and offered a compromise. "I'll tell you what. We'll call it a draw."

With hard eyes, Weevil watched the biker that Backup had taken down scurry away. He did not look happy when he turned back to her. "Baby, come on, it's too late for that."

She tilted her head, trying to figure out exactly how pissed off Weevil was and running scenarios for resolution of this skirmish through her mind. Finally she settled on the offer that was most likely to get them all home with dignity intact. "Here's the deal. Leave that kid at school alone for a week and I'll make sure your boys walk."

The proposition seemed to have the desired effect, since Weevil settled into talking rather than kicking her ass. "Why you care so much for that skinny Negro anyway? Things I heard about you, he must really lay the pipe right."

"Yeah, that's it." She couldn't explain why she was helping him. Maybe she simply wished someone had been willing to stand by her, once upon a time.

Felix chose that moment to claw his way out of the electricity-induced daze and used her car to pull himself upright, only to go very still as Veronica demonstrated the taser's arcing electricity. His eyes crossed as he watched the blue-white stream crackle three inches from his nose.

Weevil broke the standoff. "All right, all right. Felix, we get it, you're a badass, okay? But for once don't be stupid."

"Not bad advice," she told Felix, taser still pointed at him. He backed away slowly, delighted by the opportunity to get away yet save face. Veronica thought the Hispanic boy looked more intimidated than impressed. Weevil, however, looked impressed and a touch amused.

"All right, one week," he conceded. "After that, we come for you, your boy and your little dog too." He started his motorcycle, signaling to the rest of the gang that the confrontation was over.

"So . . . does that make them," she gestured towards the bikers that surrounded her, "your flying monkeys?"

Weevil laughed and shook his head. "You get lonely out here, remember: Weevil love you long time."

Veronica watched the bikers return to faceless anonymity and ride off with a screech of tires and the stench of exhaust. Backup, aware the danger had passed and he had once again successfully defended his mistress, wagged his tail. Once she was sure everyone was well away from her car and not coming back for a return engagement, she opened her door so the dog could leap into the back.

The adrenaline rush left her restless, euphoric, and far more awake than she needed to be at this late hour. By the time she came down off the high she'd be getting up for school._ I am **so** gonna miss the summer. Late night stakeouts are gonna **suck** now that school's back in session._

Movement at her target's door snapped her back into focus, and she grabbed her camera. As she watched through the viewfinder Jake Kane emerged, turning to talk to someone still in the room as he left. She could see a woman's hand holding on to the doorjamb, but no details.

_Come on, come on,_ Veronica silently urged as she took pictures. _Come out into the light . . . or at least lean in for a kiss, so I can show that something **is** going on, if not with whom. _Her pleas fell on deaf ears, and the critical picture once again eluded her. She was left with evidence suggestive that an affair was taking place but nothing to merit closing the case. _Damn._

"Come on, Backup, let's go home," she said to the dozing pit bull. "I need a few hours of sleep so I'm not a walking zombie tomorrow."

Veronica's second day back at school was similar to the first, minus the drama at the flagpole. The vapid teenagers trying to make more of themselves than they would ever be were the same. The stares, the whispers, the debates at snide confrontation, those were the same. Logan Echolls disdainfully tipping her books out of her arms as he sauntered by, almost comforting in its familiarity. The new guy sitting at her table? Well, that might be a repeat of yesterday, but it was alien to every day before.

She hesitated then walked over to the table, sitting down and pulling out her apple and a notebook. Everyone knew this spot was hers; Wallace was the one intruding on her ground. If he had a problem sitting with her, he could damn well move.

"Girl, you should hear what people say about you," Wallace said, amused, as she settled into her seat.

"So then what are you doing sitting here?" she snapped back. She didn't know which rumors the new boy had heard, but by now there were thousands to choose from. She was surprised disappointment churned in her stomach at the thought that the kid had joined the rest of the herd.

"You sat next to me," Wallace countered. Unlike yesterday, he appeared more amused than repelled by her tone of voice.

He still seemed friendly, but Veronica knew better. She'd dealt with this situation before, back when she still thought she might have a few friends at the school. "This is my table."

"And what a fine table it is." Wallace grinned and rapped on the shiny red surface next to his lunch. "What do you suppose this is made of? Oak?"

"Look, if people are saying such awful things…" she rolled her eyes and trailed off, leaving him the opening to leave. Or insult her.

"Well, I figure I've got a choice," Wallace said. "I can either hang out with the punks who laughed at me and took pictures of me while I was taped to that flagpole, or I can hang out with the chick who cut me down."

Or . . . support her? Veronica couldn't recognize any sign of insincerity, and she'd become expert at detecting bullshit in the last year. An odd sensation spread through her. It took her a moment to identify it as hope, tinged with a bit of happiness.

Maybe, just maybe, she had found a friend, one untainted by the scandals of the past year. She smiled at the thought.

First things first. She would have to keep this boy alive long enough to **be** her friend. "So you want to get the PCH Bike Club off your ass?"


End file.
